


The Professor and the Prodigy

by pinknailpolishemoji



Series: Jane/Milo [1]
Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Peter Pan (1953), Tarzan (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinknailpolishemoji/pseuds/pinknailpolishemoji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane was devastated when her father forbade her from going with him on his expedition to Africa. Forced to stay in London to finish her studies, A young professor recently transferred from Washington D.C. might just be enough to keep her entertained....or more?</p><p>chapter 1 of ??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

               “But Daddy, I’ve been planning to accompany you on this expedition for months.” I hastily pleaded under my breath. My father, the esteemed Professor Archimedes Q. Porter hurried out of the grand lecture arena and across the great hall.  
               “Jane, dear, I need you to finish your studies before you go traipsing off into the unchartered jungles of equatorial Africa.” my father rebutted as he patted my shoulder.  
              If only he had broken the news to me in private and not in front of his board of investors, I might have been able to convince him to bring me along. I scurried to keep up with him, picking up the charts and itineraries he kept dropping in his wake. Apparently, being the head of the zoology department at London University didn’t make one any less absent minded.  
              “Daddy, if its any question of whether I’m qualifi-“  
              “Nonsense! It’s no such thing.” Father interrupted turning back to me. He plucked a stray hair from his mustache and examined it like a rare specimen.  
              “You know as well as I do that you are the best technical illustrator we have here. As much as I would selfishly be delighted were you to come along, the board of trustees can’t justify bringing along someone who has yet to finish their studies.”  
He discarded the mustache hair and I suddenly felt a kinship with the strand. We had both been tossed away it would seem.  
              I knew there was no use arguing. Without the funds there would be no expedition, and Father’s work regarding the migration patterns of Silver-backed Gorillas was extremely time-sensitive. He couldn’t wait for me to finish here at the University.  
I tried to ignore the obvious fact that I was being overlooked because I was a woman. The board had just approved a mission proposed by a student of my year a month prior. The young man, John Darling, I think his name was, had just shipped off to the Western United States by the Anthropological Association to contact native tribes previously undocumented. I felt a frustration that bubbled in the pit of my stomach like a kettle boiling for tea—  
              “The tea!” I exclaimed. I had left a pot on a small stove they kept in the Professor’s quarters while I waited for the meeting to begin. It was just like me to forget something as silly as the kettle on the stove. I turned on my heels and ran full speed (as full a speed as my new boots would allow) towards—No, into. Into…I wasn’t sure.  
              A flurry of papers had erupted and I was caught in a snow globe of words and pictures. My head throbbed and it was as though night had fallen quickly and suddenly. I saw Cygnus and Ursa Major and Minor on the inside of my eyelids. The constellations faded and alarmingly bulbous eyes appeared in their place. My eyes focused and realized the cartoonish lenses were in fact made of glass.  
              “My Gosh, Miss, I am so sorry, quite sorry, Oh dear…I didn’t mean—“ The young man stammered as he offered his hand to help me to my feet. I could feel his gaze searching to meet mine, no doubt to judge what sort of hysterical woman runs around knocking into Britain's best. Something was strange about this man and my caution combined with my haste demanded I urgently make an exit.  
              “The fault was entirely mine, sir. Please, excuse me.”  
I shoveled the documents into my arms and bolted out of the hall.

              It wasn’t until I had pulled the kettle off the stove that I realized what made the man so peculiar—He was American.

*************************************************************************************************************


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milo Thatch's first day at London University isn't going as well as he had hoped....or is it?

                     No matter how long I spend with “hours” and “minutes” on maps as a cartographer, time never seems to be on my side.

                     Between almost getting run over by cars driving on the wrong side of the road, wasting an hour trying to track down a cup of coffee to no avail, and realizing I hadn’t adjusted my watch to the time difference, I was unprecedentedly late for my first day at London University. After a dismal reception for my expedition grant proposal, I absolutely jumped at the opportunity to do an exchange lecture series through the Smithsonian Institute. My Grandfather was originally from London and perhaps the minds here would be more open to new ideas. Regardless, it’s a much needed change of pace from Washington, and I’m going to make the most of it.

                     Everything here feels so…established. There’s an eerie sort of out-datedness hovering over the city like a fog that makes your skin crawl--and that’s coming from a lover of dead languages. The buildings, the mannerisms, even the cobblestone-lined streets feel frozen in time – steeped in tradition.

                     Steeped….hmm… everyone here is so gung-ho about tea over coffee I guess I could give it a try. I gather my materials from the lecture hall and make my way over to the common kitchen. By the looks of this place, you’d think the university had been abandoned like Pompeii. The stove was covered in a layer of silt and the kettle looked like an ancient relic. I reach out to fill the kettle, only to find it already heavy with water and boiling hot.

                     “Geez!” I blurted as a ran my hand under the cool faucet. “And they call me an absent-minded professor…this could’ve burnt the place down…”

                     I turn off the stove and pour myself a cup of tea. The steam rises from my cup and in the swirling paths of evaporated water, I see it…the twirling underwater towers of Atlantis.

                     “It can’t be just a fairy tale….” I whisper to myself. My brows furrow at the thought of the Board of Directors at the Smithsonian, and the looks on their faces during my proposal. I needed to escape this feeling of defeat. I need to prove them wrong.

                     With a great inhale, I pull myself up and gather my materials. Shuffling papers as I walk, a crude drawing of the city of Atlantis, as described in ancient texts floats to the top of the pile.

                     “If only I had the skills to portray what I know, maybe then they’d believe me.” I thought aloud to myself. The thought only rested a moment on my tongue before an impact jostled it from me.

                     I raise my eyes from the cold marble floors to a pair of beautiful light-colored eyes across from me. When I realized the eyes belonged to an even lovelier frame of a young woman, I blinked myself back to the present and hurried to clean up the mess our collision had created. The girl quickly made her exit, boots click-clacking in steady metronome like rhythm.

                     Maybe today’s timing was on my side all along…


End file.
